Sheffield

CHAPTER 17

With the fall came a welcomed visit by Wimbley to Sheffield. After being refreshed from his travel, the Bennings insisted on showing him the grounds. A man who looked oddly familiar acknowledged their approach of the stable yard and strode over to the fence to meet them. "Wimbley please let me introduce my master of horse, Mr. Niall Donal. Mr. Donal, my good friend Mr. Wimbley." The men bowed politely to each other. "I believe I know a relation of yours Sir, a one, Mr. Ewan Donal?" Donal smiled graciously, "Ewan is my son Mr. Wimbley." Wimbley gave Miss Benning a sly sidelong smirk, "That is so, is it. Well, and what news of your son?" Donal's smile faded, "I hate to disappoint Mr. Wimbley but my son is out playing the fool and does not take it upon himself to write."

The news discomforted Wimbley, "I do apologize, Sir as I did not know." "Pa," Donal waved his hand, "Let him play fool, though had I a notion I had raised a jackass I would have taken better pains." The tension dissolved with his humorous statement and William spoke up, "Do you, Mr. Wimbley, have any news of Ewan?" Both Wimbley's brows rose and interest peeked at the informal use of Ewan's name, "Well Master William, I have been more fortunate than Mr. Donal as I have received a letter from the younger Donal not three months gone. He wrote that he had taken up a position in Scotland." Wimbley noticed the intent attention that both Bennings and the elder Donal paid to his statement and felt guilty at having received any favor from Ewan.

The next day found Miss Benning and Wimbley strolling through Sheffield's park having a thoroughly entertaining conversation. Miss Benning laughed joyfully, "Wimbley I do believe the lady lucky enough to have you shall have no sorrowful moments the remainder of her days." Miss Benning noticed a hint of sadness in Wimbley's smile, "Ah Miss Benning but I would not inflict myself upon a lady err I to help it." "Oh! But you jest," said Miss Benning in surprise. "I have found you to be everything a lady could hope for in a husband." Wimbley blushed, "You pay me too much credit where it is not due Miss Benning as I am a, shall I say, eccentric man." Completely drawn in, Miss Benning took Wimbley's arm, "Well Wimbley you cannot stop now, you have my utmost interest." Wimbley halted their progress and turned to Miss Benning, "I only wish it possible Miss Benning but I fear the telling would lose my favor to you and that, I could not bear." "It must be grave indeed," said Miss Benning smiling wryly. "I shall not press you Wimbley but, be assured, you shall always have my favor. Are you to return to your Father's house?"

They began their progress once more. "No, it seems my father has tired of me so I am off to Paris." "Paris," exclaimed Miss Benning. "Oh! But that distresses me so. I trust it will not be a long journey?" "In truth Miss Benning, I cannot say but I shall say that the only pain I find in leaving England is the loss of your company." Miss Benning smiled up at him, "Well we shall have much practice of our penmanship skills then." Wimbley took her hand and squeezed, "I shall write as soon as I arrive and as often as it is in my power." She nodded, "adequate."

For a time they walked in silence enjoying the crisp fall day. "When you are Paris Wimbley do try to make the acquaintance of my cousin the Comte d'Artois. I believe you will find him a most entertaining figure. I will write to him and recommend you." Turning her to him he took her hand, made a formal leg, pressed his lips to her knuckles and spoke, "Nothing would make me happier." The two stared for a moment then broke into laughter.

~

The winter passed without much event and Miss Benning welcomed the spring by tending voraciously to the gardens both at Sheffield and in the village. She was in the midst of turning a row in the kitchen garden at Sheffield when a carriage arrived. Laying her tool aside she brushed the dirt from her hands onto her apron and walked towards the corner of the house. The occupant had already gained entrance into the house when she rounded the corner. She only broke the entrance when she saw her butler coming from the drawing room. "Jacque, we have a guest?" The man nodded, "Oui madam a Mrs. Whitehouse." Miss Benning froze. Her gaze fixed on the drawing room door she questioned, "A Mrs. Whitehouse?" The butler nodded again, "Oui madam the former Miss Grant. I was going to call for tea. Shall I?" Miss Benning nodded once and the butler strode quickly away.